Jeff jumped up from the stump he’d been sitting on and pulled his gun from its holster. The gunsmith from whom he’d bought it had shown him how to open and load it, but he’d left it empty until he learned how to shoot. Now he was nervous and dropped two bullets as he tried to put them into the gun. “Shit,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jake told him, bending down to pick up the bullets. “Jeff—”
Jeff looked up at him. Being with the tall, intimidating father-and-son team made him feel like a ten-year-old. “Sir?”
Jake rolled his eyes at being called sir again. “Are you ever going to stop being nervous around me?”
Jeff shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’m okay when it comes to talking about the book, but when it comes to guns…”
Jake grinned and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know, Jeff, if you asked me right now to sit down over there and write a couple of pages about me or Randy or guns or whatever, I’d be the nervous wreck, because I’m no writer. I even need Randy to help me with all the damn paperwork that comes with this job. I know guns and not much else. You are the writer. So don’t be embarrassed that you don’t know much about guns. I’d be embarrassed for you to see how lousy I am at writing, so we’re even. Got that? And don’t call me sir.”
Jeff’s respect for the man grew every time he was around him. “All right.”
“Now load that gun and give it to me for a minute. I want to see whether or not you got cheated when you bought it. It’s easy to sell a piece of shit to someone unawares.”
Jeff finished loading it, then handed it to Jake. “Jake, I, uh, I really, really hope your wife will be okay.”
Jake studied the gun. “Yeah,” was his only reply. Jeff jumped then when Jake suddenly fired five shots at the can in rapid succession, hitting it every time. He studied the gun then. “Not bad. Not bad at all. I think Red St. James gave you a good deal—probably because he knew I’d be the one testing this thing out and I’d have his hide if he sold you a piece of junk. Reload it.”
Jake walked out and picked up the can, which now was more or less in shreds but still useful enough for a target. He set it back on the log and walked back to Jeff. “Give it a try. I didn’t need to aim, but you will. For a first-time shooter, you’re better off using both hands and arms. Don’t try it one-handed just yet. You feel the kick more and are less likely to hit anything. Just steady the sight on that can. She shoots true, so if you can keep the gun still, you should hit it. And once you cock that thing, you only need to lightly pull on the trigger. Let the trigger do the shooting, not your finger. The less hard you pull that trigger, the less the gun itself will pull and jump and miss the target. And see this?” Jake noticed that Jeff’s left thumb and forefinger were near the firing chamber. “You leave those fingers there and the gasses from shooting will burn them. Wrap your fingers all the way around the butt of the gun and lift your left thumb only for cocking it, then wrap it back over the top of your hand. Keep your trigger finger pressed straight against the side of the gun, right above the trigger guard until you’re ready to shoot. Don’t ever rest it on the trigger itself. I’ll be walking back out there to reset the can. I don’t want to get shot in the back by a trigger-happy kid.”
“What? For God’s sake, Jake—”
“I’m fooling with you, unless you want to be known as the man who shot Jake Harkner.”
“Quit it! I’m already a nervous wreck.”
Jake grinned. “Shit, just relax and remember what I told you. Now take a shot at that can.”
Jeff took a deep breath and raised the gun, keeping his hands wrapped around the butt of the gun the way Jake had taught him. He pulled back the hammer, closed one eye, and aimed.
“Wait a minute.” Jake walked behind him and grasped his wrists, pulling his arms out straighter. “Keep your arms straight. You’ll hold the gun a lot steadier if you keep your arms stiff and tighten your muscles. You won’t hit a damn thing with them half-bent like that, especially when you start shooting with just one hand. You watch me the next time I shoot. My arm is always straight, even if it looks like I’m casually shooting without even aiming.”
“Like the guy in the alley across from the jail?”
Jake didn’t answer right away, and Jeff feared he shouldn’t have brought that up.
“Yeah, something like that,” Jake finally told him. “Now keep your arms straight.”
Jeff took aim again, and after taking a deep breath, he fired. The can went flying. “Oh my God! I hit it!”